Michael sat in his friend's apartment after finishing a workout in the man's private gym as he listened to him sharing some of the latest ins and outs of the town that he'd missed since his last visit. All the while trying to figure out how to bring up a strange topic that had plagued him for the last couple of days. Finally, Kyle himself brought up the subject.

"Alright, now that I've bored you to tears, are you going to finally tell me what you said that you wanted to talk about in private? Serena and my mother won't be back for at least an hour."

"Well," Michael reached for his water bottle that he'd almost drained after the workout in the gym. He didn't know how he was going to broach the subject without sounding completely nuts. "It's about a strange visit that I got the night before I came here…"

After a brief moment of silence Kyle prodded, "What kind of visit?"

"Um… Okay, this is going to sound really strange but hear me out first. Alright?"

Kyle raised a brow in curiosity but nodded. "Alright."

"What do you think about past lives? You know, reincarnations and stuff like that? It's bogus, right?"

Kyle eyed his friend before he answered carefully. "I don't know. If you'd asked me a year ago or more, I would have told you that I didn't believe in it. Now… I suppose anything is possible."

"You really believe that?" Michael had felt certain that Kyle would have been able to convince him that there was absolutely nothing to the weird stranger's accusations about him; not to mention the unusual dreams that he'd started having since then. But there he was saying that he believed that it was possible? "What made you change your mind?"

Kyle knew that he'd have to be very careful in answering his friend. He couldn't give any reason for him to connect him to his alter ego or the Sailor Scouts. But then again, it wasn't like his past life on the moon was the only one that he knew about.

"You know how I've always had a thing for swords? An obsession, really." Kyle saw his friend nod, so he continued, "Last year when Serena and I went to the fair we ended up at one of those fortune teller type booths."

"You?"

Kyle shrugged, "Serena talked me into it. Come on, you've seen her. It doesn't take much convincing for her to get me to do just about anything."

"What are you trying out for? The award for the most whipped husband in Japan?" Michael snickered.

"Anyway, the teller did a past life regression thing and it all sort of made sense."

"Don't tell me, you were King Arthur and the reason you have always had a thing for swords is because of that whole sword in the stone thing," Michael joked and watched as Kyle spat out the drink of water that he'd been taking.

"Not quite." But pretty dang close, Kyle thought. "But I was a knight."

"If you believed in all of that stuff."

"If I decided to believe in all of it," Kyle agreed. "What made you ask?"

"The other night, the night before I came here, I was approached by a stranger. He said that he wanted to talk to me about my past life."

"He did? Did he say what it was?" Kyle leaned forward, now giving his full attention to his friend.

"No. But then again, I didn't exactly give him much time to talk. Not after he-"

Michael cut himself off. No, he couldn't tell his friend that part. He'd think that he was absolutely crazy.

"After he what?"

"I know this sounds nuts, but I could have sworn that he vanished from in front of me and then reappeared right behind me. But I know it had to have been a trick of the lights or something. Stuff like that just doesn't really happen."

That's what you think, Kyle thought to himself. "Did anything else happen?"

"Well, not really. But ever since then I keep getting these really weird dreams."

"About what?"

"What does it matter? They're just dreams."

"Are you sure about that? Dreams can sometimes be the memories of the soul trying to come to the surface… Or so I've been told." Kyle added the last part quickly.

"Since when did you become so philosophical?"

Kyle tried to shrug off the unusual answer that he'd given by explaining the fact that he'd taken a few psychology classes as an elective in college.

"You know, you aren't helping at all."

"What? What did I do?" Kyle asked as he thought back to Serena's observation that Michael looked an awful lot like Zoisite. He hadn't noticed it when he worked with the general last year but now looking at his best friend, he could see the resemblance. But according to Serena, there was no way that the two men could be the same. He hadn't been killed until just a few years ago. There hadn't been time for his soul to have been brought back in the form of his longtime friend.

"You were supposed to help convince me that past lives and everything that went with it was complete and utter non-sense. Not tell me that you think that such things are possible."

"Sorry. But you did ask."

"Now forget that I did. What do you say about hitting the slopes again today?"

Kyle knew that if his friend was beginning to suspect that he had memories of a past life that were revealing themselves to him then he'd need plenty of time to work through them. At least he had the luxury of that time.

Maxfield Stanton sat at his desk as he looked over the paperwork that his secretary had brought him before she left for the day. He had come to town to work out the finer parts of a business deal which would expand his company. He hadn't been to Tokyo in a long time. Perhaps that decision had been in error. After all, a few years back his absence had allowed another man to take on his identity and even flaunt his money around as if he own the city. Fortunately, the impostor disappeared as quickly has he'd appeared. Not to mention, there didn't seem to be much damage to the company as a whole. So even though the authorities have yet to learn who the man was or what had happened to him, Maxfield had been able to go about his business as if the matter of identity theft had never happened.

He spent the better part of an hour reviewing the paperwork before he decided that he'd done all that he could do for the night. The rest of his staff had already left for the day and he knew that he should join them. Still, outside of work, he really didn't have that much of a life. His business had been his passion and it had left little room for anyone or anything else.

He stood and began to gather his papers to put them in his briefcase when he suddenly was pushed down onto his desk by two men who had appeared as if from thin air. He struggled to stand back up, but the men held firmly to him. One grabbed one of his hands and Maxfield heard him call out to a third individual in the room.

"Now, Hatsu. Quickly while we still have a hold on him."

Hatsu shook her head at the men's tactic. Relying on brute strength when they didn't have to. She wove her hand and Nephrite's struggles ceased.

Maxfield felt his entire body freeze and refuse to obey his desire to try to get away from these three strangers. None of them replied when he demanded for them to tell him what they had done to him as well as what they wanted from him. Instead, he watched as a dark-haired woman pulled out a knife and stepped closer to him. His eyes then went wide as she used the weapon to slice into his hand. It was as if she was trying to use the blade to draw on his hand. Once she was done, she then pulled out a small bottle from her pocket and poured the contents out onto his hand.

Maxfield felt as if the world was falling away as the room was replaced with another that felt as familiar to him as his own reflection. Around him he could see his friends and comrades that he'd known all of his life. Just as quickly, he was returned to the office that he'd been working in while being held down by two familiar men whom he now recognized.

"Mal, Jed, let me up; will you?"

Jadeite and Malachite grinned at their success of returning Nephrite's memories to him. Both released their friend as Hatsu released her magical hold on him.

"Welcome back," Jadeite said as he straightened his clothes out after the way he and Malachite had tackled their friend.

"Was all of this really necessary?"

"Yes. If you knew all of the trouble that we've gone through to get this far you'd understand."

"I'll have to trust you on that one." Maxfield glanced from each of his friends and then to the palace oracle before asking the obvious, why were they at his office.

"It will take some explaining. You may want to sit down, General," Hatsu said as she silently conceded that Malachite's method appeared to have been sound. She then went on to explain the events of the past; from the man's death, the destruction of the Moon Kingdom, as well as the attack of the Benu and finally to their current mission to find the prince and protect him from the avian creatures.

"Well, where are we with finding the other men?" Nephrite asked as he thought about his missing friends.

He was then told of Zoisite's reaction to Jadeite as well as sensing the energy of the prince but had yet to locate him. All that they knew was that he'd been to a temple in Tokyo a while back. The team also knew that the Benu were in the area and had attacked more than a dozen men in their search of the prince. They knew that the attacks couldn't be ignored. Soon the men would have to trace the creatures back to their current lair and put a stop to the assaults. For now, the men began to fill each other in on their current lives.

As they did so Hatsu decided to leave the men alone. That was three generals down, one more and a prince to go.

Michael sat up in bed as he tried to shake his most recent dream. It was the most horrid one yet this week. He dreamt that he was in the middle of a terrible sword fight against things that he could only describe as creatures. Beside him two other men were fighting alongside him. He felt that a part of him knew the other men. In the dream he had an intense sense of trust in them that he knew was rare.

The three men had fought against the monsters and while he was trying to fend off one of them one of the other men was ran through with a sword. He watched in horror as the man with long brown hair fell to the ground as the life left his eyes. Michael could feel the sting of the blade as he felt it cut through his arm; he'd dropped his sword as he could no longer feel anything below the wound. He then looked up and saw the creature bringing down his own weapon just seconds before his life was cut short.

Michael instinctively reached for his arm and felt for the injury that he'd sustained in his dream but only saw his birthmark, instead. Fortunately, that was all that it had been. Just a dream; nothing more.

Dreams can sometimes be the memories of the soul trying to come to the surface.

Damn, Kyle just had to put that in his head. Didn't he? Now he was beginning to doubt his own disbelief in reincarnation. But then, it wasn't like there was a way to prove or disprove it. So why was he stuck with dwelling on his incessant dreams? He could still clearly see the faces of the other men as they fought against the monsters in his dreams; could see their faces as they died. He could feel the pain as his opponents' weapons sliced through his own flesh. He could hear the doomed battle wage on around him as he fell to the stone floor.

Michael tossed his blanket aside and stood up and made his way to the window to look out at the beautiful view just outside. He tried to calm his mind. To remind him that everything he'd seen and felt was just a dream. Monsters like the ones he'd seen in it weren't real. Therefore, the dream could not in fact be a memory.

Darien read through the newspaper and saw that two more men had been attacked in the last couple of days. It seemed that the only thing that the victims had in common had been that each had dark hair and were roughly the same height and age. The police were stumped which didn't surprise him. Darien felt with his whole being that these attacks were not the result of your everyday, human, serial wacko. He couldn't really put his finger on it yet but there was just something that felt familiar to him about all of it.

He put the paper down and decided that he'd go for a ride on his motorcycle. He hated just sitting around the apartment waiting to find out if these attacks were related to a new enemy or not. Not to mention he knew that the generals were looking for him for an unknown reason, but he didn't have a clue as to how to find them. He figured that if he rode around, he just might sense something, anything, that would help him solve one of those mysteries that plagued him lately. If nothing else, at least he'd feel like he was doing something.

After taking several side streets, as well as a few of the more traveled ones, Darien spotted a familiar car off to the side of the road with an equally familiar individual standing outside in the cold while speaking on a cell phone. Darien pulled in right behind the car just as Wendy Garrett hung up and turned to face him. She held her hand up to block the light from his headlight and he knew she couldn't know yet who had stopped; nor why. When he spoke her name, he could hear the relief in her voice when she realized just who had pulled up behind her.

"Darien." Wendy visibly relaxed once she realized that it was no stranger who had decided to stop after seeing her on the side of the road.

"You look like you could use a little bit of help. Something wrong?"

"Just a flat. I called the car service and they said that they'd be out in about an hour and half."

"An hour and a half?" Darien asked in disbelief. When Wendy nodded, he motioned toward the trunk. "Go ahead and pop the trunk. I can have you on your way in no time."

"I can't ask you to change the tire, Darien."

"But you can ask me to leave you here on the side of the road in the cold and hope that the car service of yours actually gets here in under two hours." Darien smirked as he motioned to the trunk again. "Come on. It won't take long."

Wendy looked from the man in front of her back to the tire and realized that he didn't plan to go anywhere until after he'd remedied her problem. Reluctantly, she used her keys to open the trunk of her car and stood back as Darien pulled out the tire iron and began to loosen the tire before pulling out the spare and the jack and setting to work with changing the flat tire out. Once Darien was finished Wendy felt even more guilty for having the man come to her rescue when she saw that his clothes were a mess from the damp ground.

After reaching into her purse Wendy pulled some money out to give to Darien. After all, if any stranger had stopped to help her, she would have felt obligated to pay them for their time. She wasn't surprised, however, when he told her to keep it as he loaded the flat tire into her trunk along with the jack and tire iron.

"I feel like I should do something, Darien. You didn't have to do that."

"It's what friends are for, Wendy," Darien said as he closed the trunk. "But you can give me one thing. Do you have a piece of paper and pen in that purse of yours?"

"Well, yes," Wendy dug into her bag as she answered. When she pulled them out, she handed them off and saw Darien jot down something really quick before returning the paper with smudges from the brake dust on Darien's hands that he'd gotten while working on her car. When she saw that he'd written down some numbers she asked, "What's this?"

"Do me a favor. Next time you're stranded, call me instead of that car service of yours. I can guarantee that I'll get here quicker than an hour and a half," he said with a smile.

Wendy nodded with a smile on her own face. "Always the hero, I see."

"I try," Darien said a bit smugly with a shrug. He then helped her into her car and waited as she drove away before climbing back onto his motorcycle. So, he hadn't found the kind of trouble that he'd been looking for when he came out tonight, but he did feel as if he could go home now after having accomplished something good.